


Touch Starved

by yotoob



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, First time for everything, second person pov because why the fuck not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:09:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yotoob/pseuds/yotoob
Summary: Can Eve tell?





	1. Double Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having a lot of feelings at the moment; these are emerging as fic. 
> 
> (I've never done a second person pov before, please be gentle.)

**Villanelle**

 

Can Eve tell?

Can she tell that you’re so touch starved you think you might no longer even be human, so touch starved that you ache at the sight of the heel of her palm, so touch starved that you seduce your way through London, facsimile after facsimile, but never correct, never satisfying, never-

Eve can tell, you decide, as resentment and arousal double bloom in your gut. She can tell.

…..

You surround yourself with bodies.

Not dead ones, although there are those as well.

(You’re a professional, now. You might even have a pension plan. So the bodies have to be discreet. Subtle. They look like tragic accidents. You feel like a tragic accident, waiting to happen)

“I’m going to call you Eve” you say, every time. And when there are two… “I’m going to call you Eve as well.”

Surrounded by skin but you haven’t felt a human touch in years. The palms of your hands smooth over the female bodies, pliant, willing, quivering with arousal… but there’s nothing.

You feel nothing.

When you have finished with them, you ask one Eve to go down on you, whilst you kiss the other Eve, open mouthed and heavy.

“Baby” an Eve whispers, and then whispers it again when you groan in response. 

And it does help, you suppose. It helps.

You come eventually, fingers wrapped tightly in facsmile Number One’s hair, wishing for someone else.

Eve and Eve make out with each other for a bit as you recover, all whilst casting sly glances at you. But you’re bored, and watching is even less of a satisfaction, and does nothing to sooth the raging want that is prowling your heart, undiminished by the release of your orgasm. 

They stop when you look away.

“What do you want to do now?” the blonde Eve (honestly, how ridiculous, no wonder you feel nothing) asks you, crawling across the bed and placing a kiss to your neck. You look at the other Eve, the one with dark hair.

Dark hair works better, you suppose.

“How do you feel about being fucked from behind?”

She feels pretty good about it, as it turns out.

“What do you want me to do?” Blonde Eve asks.

You really couldn’t give a shit.

You just about stop yourself from asking her to go and make you a snack, because that wouldn’t be polite.

“Touch yourself” you say, as you slide two fingers into Eve and enjoy the way you feel her clench and gasp. You run your fingers down Eve’s back, annoyed at the tattoo at the base of her spine. Annoyed at the way that this doesn’t even come close to being right.

Annoyed that Eve is somewhere else, with someone else, crawling on her hands and knees for a man. 

Your brain presents you with images of Eve being fucked by Niko. You close your eyes, but it doesn’t help.

Blonde Eve touches herself dutifully, closing her eyes as she gets close. You wonder whether she is thinking of someone else, whether this is all sex is for anyone, just a constant performance of indifference, never with the right person, always a difference too far to be satisfying-

Dark haired Eve whimpers underneath her, too high pitched to let your imagination do the work. You roll your eyes, but reach around her to touch her clit.

“Oh god baby-”

This one is the ‘baby’ one then. You like that, at least, brain entirely detached from body.

Eve would call you baby when she comes, you decide, as you feel this Eve begin to clench hard around your fingers.

….

**Eve**

 

You’re annoyed with yourself.

You’re annoyed that you are annoyed, a Möbius strip of perpetual, self starting irritation.

You’re annoyed that Villanelle’s apartment is as nice as this, whilst you live your life surrounded by hand me downs and clutter.

You’re annoyed that, instead of sitting down at the table when you said let’s get started, your instinct was to go and join her on the bed.

She looks up at you.

You’re annoyed with her eyes, her mouth… a parody of a different time.

You’re annoyed at how much you want her, just like this, underneath you, looking up at you… 

You turn away.

…..

The girls are standing on the door step, fumbling to light a cigarette in the cool morning air.

You have plans to ignore them, jesus, obviously you should ignore them, but instead you open your mouth.

“Did you have fun?” It comes out bitter, acidic, although what tone could possibly cloak that question in acceptability is beyond you.

“Yes’ the blonde one says blandly, entirely unabashed. The dark haired girl takes a slow drag of her cigarette, before glancing you up and down.

“Are you Eve?”

“Yes” you say, and then you’re immediately furious that you allowed such an admission. “Why?”

The girl’s eyebrows flicker, and she shares a dark look of amusement with her friend, before tipping the cigarette up to inspect the filter.

“No reason” she says, as the blonde girl says “She mentioned you.”

You stare at both of them, and then turns on your heel, walking away.

…..

“Do you still enjoy sex?”

It’s two days later, and you’re flying to Rome. 

You hate that this is the first time you have flown anything other than economy class.

Villanelle sits opposite you, sprawled in the seat in a way that makes her look a teenager, staring out of the window, chin propped on hand. Her legs are splayed out in front of her, well into your space. 

It’s the first she has spoken since she sat down in the chair. You’d almost stood and left, because there were spare seats, and it would be easier, really, to not spend the entire flight trying to avoid looking at her. 

But you hadn’t, because… well.

You hadn’t.

Now you wish you had.

“What?”

Villanelle glances at you, and then goes back to looking out of the window.

“Which part of the question is confusing?”

Across the aisle, Carolyn closes her eyes. You can’t see Hugo’s face from this angle (little prick managed to worm his way onto the trip by merit of a GCSE in Latin, of all things) but you’re sure that he’s just taken out his EarPods. 

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

Villanelle’s foot rolls from one side to another, and then she shifts in her chair, stretching.

“I haven’t enjoyed sex since I met you.”

That’s…. you feel the flush starting on your neck. Carolyn looks like she’s trying to achieve an out of body experience purely to get the fuck out of earshot.

Villanelle rests her chin on her hand again, but this time she’s staring at you. You glare at her.

“Do you want me to apologise?”

“For ruining sex for me? Yes.”

“Well, I’m not going to, so-”

Villanelle stares at you for a long time, without saying anything. You cross your legs, regret it, and then go back to the magazine, which is trying to convince you to book a wine tasting holiday in Austria.

“Have you been enjoying sex more, or less, since meeting me?”

You close the magazine, exasperated.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But something has changed for you, hasn’t it?”

You swallow. It’s the only answer that Villanelle needs, apparently. She smiles quietly, and then holds up her hands, innocent.

“Sorry Eve. I will stop talking.”

“I will throw you off this plane if you-.”

“Yes yes, I’ve stopped. I will think about things instead. More private.”

You hate her.

…..

But you don’t.

It’s a burning, throbbing, never ending, all consuming….

It would be easier to hate her.

But you don’t.

…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading (thank you Leti for reading early)
> 
> @yotoob on twitter
> 
> SPONSORED BY oh you already know, don't make me say it.


	2. Touching Distance

**Villanelle**

When you touch her, it’s going to be gentle.

Or will it?

You don’t know. You're a dam laced with cracks, and you don’t know the when, the how, of the bursting, but it’ll come, and you won’t be responsible.

You hang your clothes onto the hotel hangers, methodical, shaking them out before arranging them on the velvet covered frame.

Eve doesn’t even unpack. You feel that in your bones, in your soul. All of Eve’s greys and navy will be in her suitcase, left like that as a deliberate sign to herself that she’s not too involved, she could walk away at any moment…

Konstantin had said that Eve had become a weakness for you. You agree, nodding to yourself in the mirror, before adopting Konstantin’s standard pose, fisted hands resting too high on your ribcage, harder to breathe.

“You have to kill her” you say to yourself, glowering like he does, before rolling your eyes.

You’re working to a different outcome, an endurance of patience.

Eve is a weakness, and you bruise gladly.

…..

Later, much later, as you approach the concierge, you have to check yourself for blood. This is a nice hotel. You can’t walk in wearing blood stains.

You had choked the stranger to death, and you hadn’t knowingly drawn blood, but in the heat of the moment…. sometimes these things happened.

The concierge speaks politely to you, and you enjoy using Italian, it had been some time since you’ve let the cadence flow over your lips. 

You deliberately extend the conversation, partly because you enjoy conversation, partly because Eve is in the foyer, clearly waiting for you.

When the conversation can be extended no further, you approach Eve, a statue in a eloquent reproach. She is still reading the same magazine from the plane, eyes sliding uselessly from picture to picture.

You stand over her, and wait. 

Eventually, Eve flips her magazine shut with a sigh.

“Carolyn wants to know that you are behaving.”

You make a face, because the excuse is as lame as Eve’s attempts to deliver it convincingly.

“I have not been behaving. Do you want to hear about it?”

You walk towards the elevator, and you know that you are annoying her, but it’s just too difficult to do anything other than this, even as you know that all you really want to do is fall into her, fall asleep on her chest listening to her heartbeat, the only peace and quiet in the whole goddamn world.

Eve follows her.

“No I do not.”

The elevator doors slide open. You step inside.

“I choked him with his tie. Not very exciting, but I have not been feeling very inspired recently. It’ll look like a robbery.”

Eve follows you in, pressing the button. You watch her.

“If you kill people and Carolyn finds out, you will be removed from the team.”

You raise your eyebrows, trying to look concerned.

“Oh dear.”

Eve looks away from you. You watch her.

“Do you even care that I killed someone? Or is it just a potential inconvenience?”

“Of course I care, you shouldn’t… be killing people.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh. No one has mentioned that before…”

You watch her. 

You watch. You wait.

Eve says nothing.

“I wouldn’t have killed him if you’d invited me into your room after dinner. You could have saved his life, Eve.”

“That’s not…. your actions are not my responsibility.”

“Are they not?”

“No” Eve says firmly, as though convincing herself. You laugh.

“How many people must die Eve, before you give me what we both want?”

The elevator stops, and the doors open. Eve looks at her, for a second longer than you were expecting, and then walks away.

“How do I know that you will behave, if I give you what you want?”

You follow.

“What we want, you mean.”

Eve doesn’t react, carries on walking without even breaking her stride.

“How do I know that you don’t… move on? If you get what you want?”

Something twists in your stomach, because she makes it sound so… mechanical. No romance. For someone who cares so much about whether you feel anything, Eve does a good job of showing that she feels nothing.

“I don’t work like that” you say, shortly, irritated. “Do you?”

“I… don’t know.”

You are standing next to her door. Eve is looking at you.

Touch starved, you remember. It’s worse when she is in touching distance.

“Are you going to invite me in?”

“No.”

You sigh, and then lean your head against the door frame briefly. It hurts still, sometimes. That’s one of the things you feel when you are with her.

“You are so cruel to me.”

Eve turns to face her, and then she is leaning on her door, a foot away. Her face is full of conflict.

“Why don’t you just… do you ever… why are you waiting for permission?”

You widen your eyes at her, because duh, and find a smile.

“Last time I tried to kiss you, you stabbed me. It’s your turn. I won’t stab you. Promise.”

…..

**EVE**

Villanelle sits next to you at breakfast.

“You know that our rooms are adjoining?”

You are proud of the way you do not falter at all, buttering your toast as though there is no hesitation at all.

“Yeah, I know.”

Villanelle has a plate full of fruit for breakfast. She leaves it, returns to the breakfast bar, and when she comes back she has another plate, supporting cheese and soft rolls and slices of ham and eggs and-

“Don’t hold back, will you?”

She smiles at you.

“I rarely do.”

You take a bite of your toast, looking away.

“Eve?”

“Mmmph?”

“You have a whole spread of every possible exotic breakfast food you could imagine available to you…. and you have chosen a slice of toast?”

You shrug.

“I like toast.”

Villanelle’s eyes widen slightly, and then she picks up her cutlery. “Quite the metaphor” she murmurs to herself.

On another table, Hugo is watching them, grinning. You feel like throwing a plate at his head, but you settle for flipping him off. 

You concentrate on eating. Villanelle does the same, eating quickly, tearing bread apart with her fingers and swallowing mouthful after mouthful.

When your plates are nearly clear, Villanelle stabs a piece of mango with her fork, and pops it in her mouth, chewing briefly. She turns to you.

“I’m going to find a woman to fuck tonight.”

This time you do falter, and you turn to look at her, briefly scandalised. She shrugs at you.

“What… I need to fuck someone, and you won’t let me have you?”

You go back to your coffee.

“You do whatever the fuck you want, okay? Have fun.”

You can feel her watching you, _fuck_ , you can almost trace the slide of her gaze. Your skin is tingling.

Villanelle sighs after a moment, and then murmurs “I’m going to fuck her against our shared wall, so you can hear, okay?”

You wish your body didn’t react, but it does. At least Villanelle cannot tell how dangerously wet you just got, although, really….. she probably can.

Villanelle gets up from the table, gathering her plates together. She leans down, and whispers in your ear.

“I’m going to call her Eve.”

…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading
> 
> SPONSORED BY SID GENTLE FILMS
> 
> @yotoob on twitter


	3. One Foot Away

**Villanelle**

It’s easy to find a woman. 

You have it down to a fine art now. You go to the busiest street, late in the evening. You wait until you see her, the one who is feeling slightly too old, slightly too tired, for the younger bodies, sliding around each other and through each other.

She has dark hair, because you will not be repeating the mistake of blonde Eve.

You talk to her politely, and then familiarly, and then you lean into her, and whisper into her ear, pressing yourself to her hip in a way that cannot really be misunderstood.

You know you have read the situation correctly when you see her fingers flex, and then she turns to you, with a slight smile.

It isn’t safe, doing things this way. One day you might bring home a psychopath who wants to kill you. 

That would be fun. 

(Statistically, though… you’ve defeated the odds by being a serial killer yourself. Two murderers in one room? What are the chances?)

This woman feels like a good choice, because she’s somehow angry with you. You wonder what she is projecting, what is going on in her personal life? A faithless husband? A faithless wife?

She groans when you reach behind her in the elevator, and start sliding her zip down her back. She pushes you away when you reach her bra.

“Not here, you idiot. Your room” she says, before crossing the elevator’s space to press her mouth to yours again, cradling your head as though she actually loves you.

You like this Eve.

“I’m going to call you Eve, okay?”

“That’s not my name?”

“…. Okay, what is your name?”

“….I’m not telling you. And I don’t want to know yours either, not your real one.”

“I’m going to call you Eve whether you would like me to or not - will that be a problem?”

“…No.”

The elevator doors open.

As you lead this Eve towards your room, you brush your fingers against the surface of Eve’s door. You nearly knock, but you hold back. You are well practiced in the art of holding back.

If this Eve notices, she doesn’t comment on it.

…..

“I’m going to fuck you against this wall, okay?”

The Eve laughs slightly, and then becomes serious again.

“You have a curious way of asking for permission.”

You shrug.

“I like specifics. Do you want me to stop?”

“No”, she says, before looking you dead in the eye as she slides her dress from her shoulders, and then leaning back on the appropriate wall.

This is… good. You like this Eve a great deal.

“Take everything else off. Please.”

…..

Can she hear, you wonder, as you slide your fingers into this Eve and she cries out with pleasure.

Can she hear? As you find a rhythm that seems to work, and this Eve clutches at your back, before lifting one leg high to rest over your hip. You press into her, holding her there with one arm and your body weight.

“Oh, fuck, Eve”

You’re more verbal than you usually are, but you want her to hear, you want her to _hear…_

This Eve swears, and then moans when you bite at her ear, breathing into it heavily.

“Eve… Eve…”

_Are you even awake?_

It’s hard work, and you miss the bed, and the luxury of being able to lie the Eve down, spread her out in front of you, but you made a commitment. You would find a woman. You would fuck her against the wall. 

And Eve would listen.

…..

 

**Eve**

Fuck Italian architects, and their complete disregard for sound insulation.

It’s the moans that seem to cut through the wall most easily. You had heard the closing of Villanelle’s door, and then you’d heard nothing.

But then…. jesus, did Villanelle perform a survey before she brought her home? Excuse me, are you loud when someone fucks you?

You’re wet, of course. You’ve been wet since she said it, wet since you have been alone in your room. You’ve already touched yourself, biting hard against the back of your hand when you came, but it hasn’t seemed to make any difference, and now Villanelle is six foot away, fucking another woman, and…

You stand up.

You approach the wall.

Three feet away, fucking another woman.

_I’m not with them, when I’m with them…_

You don’t want to hear, but oh god you do-

You press your ear to the wall.

One foot away, fucking another woman.

You can heard the vibrations now. You can hear the moans of this other woman, easily, too easily, loud and shameless, and oh jesus is she really that good? Or is this just another show, just another way of-

Then you hear her.

“ _Eve…. Eve…_ ”

One foot away. It’s practically a threesome.

You don’t notice making a conscious decision, but your hand is beneath your pyjama pants, and now you are _shit_ -

Oh fuck it feels so good…. you lean your forehead against the plaster.

“Villanelle” you breath, imagining her mouth, and you’re close, oh you’re so close already, one foot away from her with your hand between your legs.

_“Eve, oh fuck-”_

She’s being deliberately loud you think, annoyed even as your fingers work faster, and you are playing with your tits now, desperate to finish just so that you can get in the shower and block her out.

_“Eve-”_

God you want her, you want her, you want her mouth, her fingers, her tongue, her breath, her tits, her sex, her wetness, her sounds, her clit-

The woman who isn’t you starts to moan louder, and then cries out. You sink to the floor, gasping, wishing you’d taken your pyjama pants down so you could spread your legs wider but it’s too late now, it’s too late-

You come hard, whimpering and then crying out into the emptiness, curling your whole body around your hand, desperate for anything, anything-

_“Oh, god Eve-”_

You moan quietly, in response, and then relax.

There is a quiet.

And now… now you suppose this woman fucks Villanelle? Is that what happens next?

You stand, shaky legged.

One foot away is too far away.

…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading
> 
> SPONSORED BY TOO MANY THINGS TO BE ITEMISED
> 
> @yotoob on twitter


	4. Reversed Gravity

**Villanelle**

This Eve recovers quickly.

“You are good at that” she laughs, and if she notices that you are making more eye contact with the wall than her, she doesn’t comment. She slides her hand over your chest, down to your stomach, and you can feel her heat through your clothes.

“Mmm… I’ve had lots of practice.”

“Who are you practicing for?”

You move away from her, suddenly tired, suddenly wanting to be alone to touch yourself. Pretence is harder when the other person keeps saying the wrong thing.

“Who ever this Eve is?”

You shrug, and head into the bathroom, rinsing your hands and then splashing water on your face. 

You don’t want her here anymore.

“Anyway, listen, I had fun-”

She follows you into the bathroom, and places a hand on the small of your back. You feel yourself flinch away, and you turn to her quickly, putting a stop to whatever this Eve has planned.

“I would like you to leave now.”

She looks like she might argue for a moment, and you are briefly considering trying to continue to pretend anyway, but then there is a knock at the door.

It is Eve. You feel your heart turn over in your chest.

It is Eve in pyjamas, looking…. 

“Are you okay?”

“Make her leave.”

You put up a show of reluctance.

“But we haven’t finished? Have you not been listening?”

Eve rolls her eyes, and pushes past you. The other Eve is in the bathroom, and has dragged a hotel dressing gown around herself. Eve smiles brightly at her.

“Hi, do you speak English?”

The woman stares at her, and you doesn’t know what the answer is, but question seems clear enough in any language.

“Do you understand me if I say please fuck off?”

The woman slides her gaze from Eve to you. You shrug behind her, the universal sign for ‘my hands are tied’. 

“Thank you so much for coming though” you say in Italian. “I really did have a nice time.”

You know that you should expect the slap, but it still feels a little unreasonable, regardless.

…..

After the woman has gone, you sit on the bed, hand to your face. 

“I gave her a really good orgasm, it seems ungrateful of her to slap me.”

“Yes, well. You must inspire it in people.”

You grin.

“Did you listen?”

“Yes.”

You watch her. Eve stares at you.

You start unbuttoning your shirt.

“Are you here to slap me as well?”

“No. I just didn’t want to listen to her fuck you.”

You tip your head to one side.

“You wouldn’t have…. I was about to throw her out.”

Eve stares at you. You smile and shrug, popping button after button.

“And then I was going to knock on your door.”

Eve doesn’t say anything.

And then….

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” she says.

You grin. 

“Okay.”

…..

Afterwards, when you have come hard, hips twitching against Eve’s hand…. you could cry.

Eve lies across you, on top of you, and she’s reversed gravity, you feel the pull upwards. You would fall into her.

Her hand, so recently otherwise beautifully occupied, rests at your hip. Her fingers stroke small, mindless circles.

You feel her breath on your neck, on your shoulders…

You rearrange underneath her, until your hand is in her hair. You tug gently, until she lifts her head and gives you her mouth, kissing you with a small sigh.

“I liked how you touched me” you murmur against her lips.

“Hmm, yes, I did get that impression” Eve says, sounding smug. And you would flip her at this point, and go down on her until she forgets the attitude, but… oh you just _can’t_.

Eve isn’t wearing a top, and so it is just her skin against your skin, and the contact is filling you up, somehow, some long depleted health bar that you hadn’t even noticed is taking what it needs.

She removes her hand from your hip, and rests it against your cheek. She looks at you. 

“Does it still hurt?”

It takes you a second to realise that she is talking about the slap.

“No” you whisper, wondering which hurt you are talking about. “No, not at all.”

She smiles, and kisses you again. You strain upwards into her.

“Eve please-”

“Hmm?”

You take her hand from your face, and slide it down your body, down between your breasts, down until you can feel her fingers slip over your wetness again. You arch up into the contact.

“Touch me again.”

Eve gasps slightly, and then her fingers move, and oh god you never want anything other than this.

“Again?”

“Again. Don’t stop, baby, please-”

…..

**Eve**

“You don’t say my name in the same way?”

“Hmm?”

You lift your head from it’s resting position on Villanelle’s thigh, and look up at her, naked and flushed.

“You were… through the wall, you were saying my name a lot, but when I’m here you say ‘baby’ or ‘fuck’ or-”

“Kill Commander?”

You stare up at her, and then slowly lower your mouth, biting the skin at her hip bone until she gasps and wriggles underneath you. She pushes you away, laughing.

“No, okay. Not that. But I do call you ‘oh god don’t stop’, you missed that.”

“But you don’t call me Eve?”

“Well, no? You are here, with me. I don’t need to do all the effort of fantasising if you are here.”

You feel… god. So much.

You stand up, and remove your last items of clothing. Villanelle watches you, and then licks her lips. Her mouth twitches into a smile.

“Oh, we are swapping?”

You climb on top of her, straddling her hips and pressing down, gasping at the contact because you’re so wet, and you’re so ready-

You moan, and Villanelle echoes you a second later, looking down at your hips.

“How do you want- what do you want me to do?”

You are already rocking down onto her, and Villanelle’s hands are on you, touching your face, your hips, your breasts, your stomach-

“Just… touch me. Anywhere. Just be here with me.”

“I always am. I always have been-”

You take one of her hands, pressing her fingers to your mouth for a moment, before guiding it to her hips. You lift yourself up, and then she’s pushing into you, so slowly you could die, and-

“Fuck- fuck-”

Villanelle is looking up at you, and you-

“ _Baby_ ” you whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! Hope you liked it.
> 
> @yotoob on twitter
> 
> SPONSORED BY oi.


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